WARNING: This story contains themes of depression, SI (self-injury) and suicide.

Thank you, again, for all the sweet reviews from: Bluebell140, AlamancexGurl, yogaluva, pumpkinking5, Bridget1297, Y0uNMcK33, coolio1260, zacefanno1, Ice, JiLLiAN2548, and oxtwilightsmxo.

A/N:So I'm going to leave my Author's Note at the top this time, but I hope you don't forget to review. Like most of my stories, TWLOHA is personal. That's why it took me a little longer than necessary to write this chapter. In many ways, it's a form of reflection for me. But it also works in the story's benefit because I know exactly where I'm going with the story. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Thank you for reading and please review!
Much Love,
Kae xx

The following day, Gabriella had not wanted to go to school. But she couldn't afford to lose another day of school. She was already so behind from not doing her homework from the previous day. Much to her body's protest, she dragged herself out of bed at quarter till six and begun her morning routine. She gathered her hair into a bun at the top of her head and turned the knob for cold water.

In the midst of her routine, she heard two rapid knocks coming from her room. She dried her face quickly and stepped back into her room to see the outline of a man on her balcony. As she stepped closer, it finally registered in her brain that it was none other than Troy.

They hadn't spoken since the last time that he was on her balcony.

"Hey," she said gently as she opened the windowed French door.

He turned around and from the light that poured out of her room, she was able to see his smile. "I take it that you're going to school."

She nodded and opened her door wider for him. "I'm still getting ready. Do you mind waiting down stairs?"

"I'll actually go wait in my truck. I think I didn't finish last night's reading," he said and she expected him to come in, but he walked backwards to the railing instead.

"You can use the front door, you know."

"I know, but climbing down a tree is more fun than walking down stairs."

"Just don't fall and hurt yourself."

"Awe, you care about me," he teased.

"No, you idiot. I just don't want to explain to my mother why a boy hurt himself by climbing our tree."

"Okay, sure. That's why."

"Just go so that I can finish getting ready," she said as she sensed that he was probably smirking. She took a step back into her room and began to ease the door shut.

"Fine. Fine. Just don't take too long or we'll be late," he said as he swung his legs over the railing.

"I'll be down in a minute," she said as she retreated into her room and locked her balcony door before returning to her bathroom.

Gabriella froze as she caught sight of her arm. She had almost forgotten about that. With her fingertip, she traced the faded word. She attempted to remove it with rubbing alcohol but she could still see it. Her eyes drifted shut as she played their encounter again in her mind.

"I'll show you mine sometime," his words echoed in her ear.

What did he mean by that? She wondered.

In her eyes, Troy was perfect. Everything from his looks to his grades was above average. The idea that he knew firsthand what it was like to hold a blade to his skin, made her sick. He had such a reverence for life that the pieces didn't add up.

Her thoughts were disrupted when she heard her cell phone ring in the adjacent room. She rolled her eyes when she saw the caller ID.

"Yes?" she said into the phone as she walked back into the bathroom. She hit the speakerphone function and sat it down on her counter so that her hands were free for her to do her makeup.

"You are definitely taking longer than a minute."

"Is that really a surprise?"

"I guess not, but I was kinda hoping that we could get to school early."

Gabriella let out a guilt-induce breath as she paused her application. "Can you give me five more minutes?"

"Okay, but if you're not down here by then, I'm coming to get you."

"Sounds fair. Bye!"

Gabriella ended their conversation and continued with putting on her makeup. By no stretch of the imagination was she a vain woman. When she looked into the mirror, she hated who she saw. She couldn't look past the flaws to see anything beautiful.

So why is it that she puts in that effort?

She doesn't do it for the compliments or to boost her self-esteem. She does it because she's afraid. If she were to give up on her appearance, then her friends would know that something's wrong. Beneath the concealer, foundation, eyeliner and mascara, was the lifeless girl she knew herself to be. It's the part of her that she tries so desperately to hide.

Placing down her tube of mascara, she took in her appearance. She still looked pale and tired, but that's why they had makeup- to hide those flaws. She grabbed an empty makeup bag and tossed in pressed powder, tubes of Chapstick and lipstick, blush, and concealer. It wouldn't be the first time that she finished her makeup in Troy's truck or at school.

She raced back into her room and threw the makeup bag into her school bag, before she went over to her closet. Selecting a simple outfit of jeans and a white T-shirt, she slipped them on and then picked up her bag. She grabbed her cell phone off of her bathroom counter and was out of her house before she knew it.

Gabriella climbed into the familiar truck and dropped her bag by her feet. She fastened her seatbelt before she flipped down the visor vanity mirror to check her makeup one last time. Safely seated in his truck, she grabbed her makeup bag and used the makeup puff to dust her face. Pleased with her foundation, she reached for the blush to give herself a so-called natural flush. As a final touch, she reached into her bag for her lipstick. The smooth application of her lip color was what notified her that something wasn't right. She smacked her lips together to evenly distribute her lipstick and recapped the tube before she slipped it back into her bag.

"Weren't you the one that was complaining that we were going to be late for school?" she asked as she turned to face him, only to notice that he was staring right back at her. "What's wrong?"

Troy opened and closed his mouth several times before he turned away from her. "It's nothing," he muttered as he shifted his truck in reverse and began their drive to school.

It was an awkward journey, more awkward that their first ride together. Neither of them knew what to say. Troy kept his attention on the road, while Gabriella watched the scenery blur. The blaring of 30 Seconds to Mars filled their silence.

Wanting to keep herself from being tempted to stare at Troy, she reached for her phone. As she fumbled with the touch screen and it came to light, a profanity slipped her lips.

"What?" Troy asked immediately, as he glanced at her briefly.

"It's nothing," she fibbed as she self-consciously rubbed her bare wrist.

"Gabriella, I know you. I can count the numbers of times you've cursed on my hands."

"I forgot my bracelets."

"That's it? It jewelry, It's not-"

"It's not a fashion statement," she snapped at him, annoyed by his nonchalant behavior. She turned her body away from him and crossed her arms in defense. "After yesterday, I would of thought you'd understand," she said, not caring one way or another if he heard her.

"I'm sorry," he said at last, breaking the heavy silence. "I really didn't make that connection."

Despite his many attempts, Gabriella refused to talk to him. As soon as he pulled into his parking space, she bolted from his truck before he put it in park. She ignored his calls for her and the stares of bystanders. The so-called King of East High was chasing after her; she was bound to attract attention.

"What?" she screeched as she finally whipped around to come face-to-face with those hypnotizing blue-eyes.

"Gabriella, I'm sorry about earlier," he said quietly, reaching out to grab her hand but she stepped backwards. "And I'm also sorry about yesterday."

"I really don't want to talk about this now."

"Fair enough, but we'll have to talk about it eventually."

"I'll see you later," she muttered, not even daring to look him in the eyes.

Troy caught her hand as she turned to walk away and forced something into her hand. "It's not as pretty as your bracelets, but it should do."

"Thank you," she said, opening her hand to reveal his leather-strapped watch.

"If it doesn't fit, you can poke another hole through the strap," he said as he pulled her into a quick hug. Troy held his gaze on her for a moment longer, making no effort to move. He looked as if he had more to say.

"What?"

"It's noth-"

"No, it's something," she insisted, daring him with her eyes to speak. "You've been starring at me like that since this morning."

He sighed as he raised a hand to scratch the back of his neck, a clear indication of his nervousness. "It's just that I've never really noticed how much makeup you really wear. But anyway, I'll see you later."

As Gabriella watched him walk away from he again, this is what was running through her mind: Why would someone so wonderful waste his or her time on me?

-TWLOHA-

The school day had gone faster than she expected and she had been dreading another awkward car ride with Troy. Fortunately for her, Troy had basketball practice and so Sharpay drove her home. Now they worked in silence to tackle their mound of homework.

But Gabriella couldn't concentrate.

Her mind was still swirling with questions about Troy. He was always so honest and open about what's on his mind. It's hard to imagine that there was this whole side of him that she didn't know.

Ironic, isn't it?

"Why didn't anyone tell me that Troy had a sister?" she asked as she placed her pen on the spine of her textbook and flipped it shut. She watched as the blonde across her merely shrugged as she continued on with her notes.

"It never came up."

"There must of been multiple times that we talked about siblings but no one thought to mention Krystina."

"It wasn't a big deal."

"A little girl dies and it's no 'big deal'?" Gabriella fired back, her eyebrow arched in surprise.

Sharpay said finally as she capped her pink pen and placed on her book. "Krystina was like a little sister me, so don't put words in my mouth," she scolded as she locked eyes with Gabriella.

"I didn't mean it like that," she apologized as she reached forward to place a comforting hand in the blonde's slender one. "I'm sorry. I just couldn't understand how anyone could leave a detail like that out."

"All of us went to her viewing and funeral," Sharpay said at last. "I just remember how Troy tried to remain his upbeat self during both of the ceremonies. He seemed fine during that time, that's what worried us."

"I don't understand. If he seemed fine, why were you worried?"

"When my grandmother died and my mother put on this act that she was fine, my aunt told me that it was the quiet ones that you have to worry about."

"So you guys think that he really took it hard?"

She nodded. "I think he had a delayed reaction. It wasn't until a couple of weeks passed by that you could just tell that something was up with him. Actually, he quit basketball because he was going to therapy once a week."

Gabriella tried to hide her surprise, but she couldn't imagine Troy sitting in a room and spilling his thoughts to virtual stranger. "Did he get better after that?" she asked finally.

"He got worse before he got better but he eventually bounced back."

"That's good. That's what matters in the end."

"Speaking of Troy, is that his watch?"

The brunette blushed. "Yeah it is, I forgot that I was wearing it."

"I'm surprised that he let you wear it," she said with envy evident in her eyes. "That's his favorite watch."

"I didn't know that," Gabriella replied, dropping her gaze from the beautiful blonde and to the watch adorning her wrist.

"Hs grandfather left it for him when he passed away. Troy rarely takes it off."

"H-he was teasing me about my small wrists and he was trying to make a point by comparing how his watch fits on me," she managed to get out.

'Oh okay, I thought he gave it because-" The blonde's brown eyes widened as she realized what she began to say. She quickly diverted her attention away from her friend and mumbled something incoherent.

"Shar, what were you going to say?"

"It's nothing, honestly."

"Funny, it didn't sound like 'nothing.' Seriously Shar, what is it?"

She sighed, still refusing to look up. "I thought that he finally asked you to be his girlfriend."

"W-why would you think that?" she stuttered.

"Despite the fact that you repeatedly say 'no', he has asked you out only a hundred times- which I don't understand. If Troy asked me out, I would be the happiest girl in the world. "

"Wait a minute. You like Troy?" Jealousy coursed through her veins but she hid it with a smile.

Sharpay looked away, the answer clear in her flushed cheeks. "Before I answer that, I need to know if you do."

"Troy and I are just friends," Gabriella said with a forced smile. "With all the times that I've turned him down, he probably doesn't like me like that. Besides, he's better off without me." She muttered the last sentence to herself, jealousy coursing through her veins.

"Are you sure? You don't like him at all?"

"Not like that," she said, trying to convince herself more than Sharpay. "He's just a really good friend."

Sharpay squealed gleefully and clapped her hands together. "You have no idea how good it is to hear that. Confession time: When you first moved here, I was really jealous that he started spending all this time with you. At first, I thought it was because I felt that I was being replaced but then he started hitting on you and blatantly flirting. I was full-on jealous."

"Well, I don't like him," she said, still not full convinced. She hid her disappointment with herself with a smile. "You two would look great together," she said, her friend's smile widening.

It's true. Gabriella thinks as she takes in her friend's beauty. She knew for a fact that her friend only wore mineral makeup so her skin was probably flawless to begin with. Her smile was up to celebrity status with her perfectly aligned pearly whites. Her body was made to wear the shortest skirts and the most form-fitting outfits. Her personality was strong but she was well liked by their peers.

Sharpay Evans was perfect.

Sharpay Evans was everything Gabriella Montez was not.

Sharpay Evans was a better match for Troy Bolton than Gabriella Montez would ever be.

-TWLOHA-

Later that night, Gabriella sat alone in her room. She had declined Sharpay's offer to have dinner at her house and decided to skip dinner altogether. She took an Aspirin for her headache, which could of been cured if she had eaten properly the whole day. Gabriella chased down the pain reliever with a glass of water as she waited for her laptop to load. As soon as she was greeted by her beach screensaver, she clicked on the Internet browser and typed in two words. It took several tries, but at last, she found what she was looking for.

As Gabriella stared at the screen in front of her, this is what was running through her mind: Why must the ones that don't deserve it, die?

Here she was, willing to take her life, and there were children that had their lives snatched out of their tiny hands. She had half a mind to slam her laptop shut as she felt her eyes water. But her eyes scanned the screen of links to obituaries and news articles about fundraisers; she froze upon seeing a link that stuck out. After skimming the snippet, she concluded that it was written from Troy's perspective and she clicked on the Fuck Yeah Love! link.

Beneath the title FOREVER IN MY HEART was a photo of smiling little girl with sandy-blonde hair. Her smile was crooked in the most perfect way, framed by her full cheeks. Gabriella could see the little girl's frail arms as her hands formed into the shape of a heart. But it was the little girl's eyes that pulled her in. They were a unique shade of brilliant blue, but she knew just who they reminded her of.

Gabriella continued reading:

Krystina Bolton

She was absolutely beautiful. She stood just under four feet. She was 10 years old-10 years and 11 mouths to be exact. She was strong enough to go through hell and back. She was my dear baby sister.

There will never be enough words to convey how beautiful she was or how strong she was. My friends Sharpay and Ryan wrote a song for her. It had beautiful lyrics and a hypnotizing piano solo. Even then, everything that made up my sister wasn't brought into light in that song.

I can remember the day so clearly in my mind. I had a test in Algebra II and my stomach was in knots because I didn't really know the material. But as I prepped myself to take the test, my teacher told me that my dad was waiting for me in the attendance office. When I met my dad in the office, I completely froze. My dad - the bulky, basketball coach - was crying.

I knew that my sister was sick, but I didn't think much of it. I figured that she would bounce back, like she always did. She was resilient. She had proven doctors wrong so many times that I've lost count. Just the year before, she was given a 30% chance of survival. Four months later, she was at home opening her pile of Christmas presents.

This time was different.

My sister was really, really sick. There were too many tubes leading in and out of her tiny body. Because her kidneys hadn't been working for like the past year, the doctors had her on dialysis 24/7 to clean out the toxins in her body and all the while she had a breathing tube.

We thought she was doing better because on her birthday, despite being unable to table because of her feeding tube, she was wide-awake and responsive. Her liver (which was transplanted almost 9 years ago) began to fail and her doctors said that there wasn't anymore that they can do for her.

The doctor spoke to us and he said that we should start thinking about comfort care because in his professional opinion, she had gotten to the point where it was irreversible. When he was talking, it just hit me that I really could lose her.

Her ammonia levels were so high that it caused swelling in her brain, which meant that day or the day after, she would be brain dead. She was bleeding internally and it spilled from her dried lips. There were only two options for her: If the new medicine didn't work, then she'd need a surgery but she wasn't stable enough for that and would die.

Her body finally gave out.

My parents decided that since there was nothing that they can do for her, that they would give her a dose of morphine and just let her blood pressure drop. My grandmothers, aunt and cousin flew in from California so they were with Krystina in her final hours. She wasn't in pain and God knows that she had suffered too much in her young life.

Krystina Bolton passed away August 23, 2009 at 6:52 am EST.

Three months ago today, I lost her. Outliving your baby sister is one of the worst feelings in the world. It took me three months to find the right words to write this. Even now, it just doesn't seem like enough. So in those three months, I've made a decision. This is my declaration on how I'm going to honor my sister's memory:

I, Alexander Bolton, will give up cutting and get help.

Part of the reason I started cutting was because of my sister's illness. I just got so frustrated that my whole life was dictated by her schedule. I had to miss out on certain things at school or with my parents because she was sick. Now she's gone and one of my reasons is therefore gone and I still feel this numbness. I didn't know how to handle these emotions. All of these years, I've had to suppress how I was feeling to please other people and cutting was my release.

But things are different now.

Krystina would of wanted me to get better and get out of my slump. I've decided that I'm going to really try and change this coming year. I'm going to stop feeling sorry for myself and stop being so selfish. I realized that I haven't really tried to make myself feel better and essentially be a happy person.

To the strangers that have stumbled upon this but were able to relate, please remember that you're not alone. Things will get better. It's always hard to see that light at the end of the tunnel, but it's there. Believe me, it is there. It just might take some time. I'm just sorry that it took my sister's death for me to see it.

Krystina, you are my inspiration. I love you and miss you more than anything.

Wherever you are, know that you will always have your big brother's love.

-Alex

Despite that this was a public post; Gabriella felt that she had stumbled on something so intimate. She didn't know why it was signed as 'Alex' but she was sure that this was Troy. She could almost hear his voice as she read his words. After closing her laptop so that she wouldn't be tempted to read it again, she stood from her desk chair and walked into her bathroom.

Her eyes drifted shut as she replayed her conversation with Troy from the day before. It makes sense. She told herself as she remembered the look of vulnerability in his brilliant blue eyes. She remembered how stunned she was by his uncharacteristic behavior. But she understood it now.

Gabriella knew it all to well. Behind her many smiles and laughs, she suffered heartaches. Why would it be impossible for Troy Bolton to do the same? After all, not everything is what is it seems.

It was a beautiful thing for her to think that she could her see herself opening up to Troy. But as she took in her makeup-streaked face, she thought otherwise. She was a mess- physically and emotionally. Troy may have the knowledge to help her but maybe he didn't want anything more than that.

Why choose the broken girl when there's a beautiful, lively girl falling at your feet?

Sometimes, looking past the surface wasn't required.

Anonymous Review Reply:

to Ice:I'm so glad you found chapter four cute. =) And I'm sorry that fanfiction wouldn't let you sign in. lol that's really weird. But thank you for still leaving an anonymous review!